


the (ice) battle of the eagle and the lion

by Chillykins



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Hockey AU, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22519780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillykins/pseuds/Chillykins
Summary: Every year, Garreg Mach University hosts The Battle of the Eagle and the Lion: a three-on-three hockey tournament contested by three of the school's most prestigious student groups. Who will win?(Chapter 1: Black EaglesChapter 2: Blue LionsChapter 3: Golden Deer)
Kudos: 5





	the (ice) battle of the eagle and the lion

**Author's Note:**

> i am a simple chilly. i see a fandom, i want a hockey au. anyways, much like the game, there are three different "routes" to this fic. as you probably can guess, each chapter has a different house winning the tournament. 
> 
> i honestly don't know when the blue lions and golden deer chapters will be up because these kinds of fics are kind of hard for me to write and my motivation is unpredictable, but hopefully one day this will be a complete work.
> 
> anyways, my wonderful black eagles are up first! i came up with jersey numbers for everyone because i could so if you want them, here we go. their positions are listed as well as who the captain/alternate captains are. the jersey numbers are either for personal hockey reasons or some variation of their birthday
> 
> #22 C edelgard F  
> #87 A hubert D  
> #19 A ferdinand F  
> #34 bernie F  
> #29 petra G  
> #9 dorothea D  
> #46 caspar F
> 
> also, you can find me on tumblr @johnbly or twitter @longestyeehaw

**ANNUAL BATTLE OF THE EAGLE AND THE LION**

Friday, January 24 & Saturday, January 25

**Game Schedule:**

Friday @ 10AM: Black Eagles vs. Blue Lions

Friday @ 2PM: Blue Lions vs. Golden Deer

Friday @ 6PM: Golden Deer vs. Black Eagles

Saturday @ 2PM: Championship

“Hey, look at that,” Caspar said, zipping up his jacket. “We’ve got the longest break between games.”

“But that also means we have the earliest game,” Linhardt pointed out. “How is that a benefit?”

“As you aren’t out on the ice, I fail to see how your dislike of the timing matters.” Hubert surveyed the schedule from the back of the group. “Your work can be done the night before so we’ll be prepared if you fall asleep on the bench during the game.”

Dorothea laughed. “Hubie, don’t act like you’re not already coming up with our strategy. If Lin falls asleep on the bench or finds something more interesting to do the night before, we’ll be just fine.”

“You will at least try, Linhardt?” Edelgard prompted, her tone of voice indicating that there was only one acceptable answer.

“I can promise that, at least,” he said, “but I won’t go any further.”

“I-is it too late for me to switch to assistant instead?” Bernadetta asked. “Practicing with you all is one thing, but the Battle of the Eagle and Lion is, well. Real.”

“Bernie, you’re our most accurate shot,” Caspar said in disbelief. “You can’t change now when it matters the most.”

“Isn’t that e-exactly the right time to change?”

“No one is changing positions,” Edelgard said -- ordered, really. “We’ve been working together for months with victory in this tournament in mind. To change things now would seriously damage our chances, no matter how much talent we have.”

“You’ll do just fine, Bernie,” Dorothea assured. “Just act like we’re in practice.”

“The other students don’t look anything like you all, though.”

“Then we will come up with another strategy for you,” Ferdinand said confidently. “You could pretend that the other team is planning on attacking the greenhouses, and you’re the last line of defense.”

Hubert rolled his eyes. “She’s a forward, Ferdinand.”

“It was a figure of speech, Hubert. Save that difficult nature for our opponents.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

Ferdinand turned away from Hubert’s concerning smile. “Does that help you any, Bernadetta?”

She clasped her hands together, closing her eyes as if imagining the scenario he’d suggested. “Well, it does make me want to fight…”

“Leave the fighting to me, Bernie.” Caspar clenched a fist. “I can’t wait to drive people into the boards.”

“I do not have understanding,” Petra said. “Will you have a car on the ice?”

“Oh, not that kind of driving. I just meant checking.”

“The hockey kind of checking?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Another word that has different meaning in sport.”

“Fight was the wrong word,” Bernadetta clarified. “Almost anyone would be able to beat me if I did what you do, Caspar. But I do want to protect my flowers, so if I pretend that helping us win is the only way to save them...”

Edelgard pushed her hair over her shoulder. “The other teams had better look out.”

* * *

Byleth looked over some of the insights Linhardt had compiled and given to them the night before. They still didn’t fully understand how they’d come to be the unofficial/official coach of the Black Eagles’ intramural hockey team, but they’d accepted it some time ago. Who knew that serving as a TA for a history class would lead to leading a sports team. Their confusion aside, the role was enjoyable; they could to grow closer with eight of their students, and there was something about hockey that got their blood pumping. 

They suspected it had something to do with how her father previously served as the coach for Garreg Mach’s competitive team. The sport was no stranger to Byleth, though for every good memory of some exciting action on the ice, there was a slightly bitter one at how the sport often took Jeralt away from them for stretches of time. They hadn’t considered playing or coaching as a career for themselves, preferring to look to guiding students academically, but there were undoubtedly similarities between the two. It just took Edelgard making the offer a few weeks in and the first practice to realize.

Now to see if she’d made the right choice.

The team did well in their training, growing with each practice. There was no denying the chemistry that had formed long ago through shared classes and experiences, but they had yet to play a real game. Sure, there’d been a few scrimmages against other intramural teams, except those didn’t have the same prestige to them as the “big three” groups. Those teams hadn’t been training as they knew the Blue Lions and Golden Deer had. How could they not, when they had the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion lurking on the horizon?

Scribbling a few notes here and there, Byleth flipped through Linhardt’s research. Statistics gathered from the other teams’ scrimmages, insights on the students’ behavior from the classes he shared with them, analysis on their own team’s strengths and weaknesses...there was no denying he was an asset to the group, with his tendency to single-mindedly focus on a topic of interest. With the tournament just lasting the weekend, he gathered everything the team needed in one go. They didn’t have to worry that he’d find another topic worth his attention. 

Once they were satisfied, Byleth tucked the papers into their notebook and stood up from their desk. They pulled on their coat, shoving their wallet and keys into their pockets. There wasn’t an arena on campus, but the one the university used was close enough for them to be content with walking. The strong, cool wind wasn’t ideal, but they told themself it was just to get them in the mood. They didn’t stop to talk to anyone, though they swapped greetings with those who weren’t aware of where they were headed, and well-wishes and good-natured trash talk alike with those who knew about the tournament. They even passed by Claude -- arriving early to scout, no doubt -- who gave his usual “hey, Teach” when he spotted them.

Byleth followed the signs inside the arena to the locker room designated to be theirs. Unsurprisingly, Edelgard and Hubert already stood inside, engaged in some deep conversation. Hearing their coach’s footsteps, both looked up.

“Good morning, Byleth,” Edelgard said, smiling. “Are you ready to put the Lions in their place?”

“I am, but as you’re the ones playing, the question may be more important to you.”

“Is there any doubt?”

“Of course not.”

“Did Linhardt give you his insights, then?” Hubert asked, nodding at the page corners sticking out of Byleth’s notebook.

“He did, and they were helpful, as expected.” Byleth glanced at the clock on the far wall. “I don’t know how much time we’ll have for going over it all if the others don’t start showing up soon.”

Edelgard tapped her chin with a frown. “Everyone will show up on time, I’m sure, but I can’t say if they’ll be here early enough for all of that. You can always just start with Hubert and me, and we’ll pass it on during the game.”

“I’ll give everyone a few more minutes.”

Ferdinand strolled in during that range, but no one else. Preparing themself to potentially repeat what they were about to say, Byleth gestured for the students to sit down as she wrote and sketched on the locker room’s white board. Sure enough, just as they demonstrated a play designed to take advantage of their overall speed advantage, Caspar burst in with a shout of “let’s go!” Once he was settled -- or as settled as he could be -- Byleth resumed the explanation. To Caspar’s credit, he didn’t ask them to start over, though they suspected he wasn’t all that interested in finer points of strategy when he could simply outmuscle his opponents.

Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta arrived together at the end of Byleth’s breakdown on the individual Lions’ weaknesses. All paid close attention, though Bernadetta looked as if her very life depended on absorbing every word. 

“Any questions?” Byleth asked, capping the white board’s marker.

“Did we miss anything?” Dorothea said. “You were talking when we came in.”

“Some, but I don’t have the time to go over it again. It’s time to get dressed and warm up.” Catching sight of Bernadetta’s increased anxiety, Byleth added, “I’ll give you a summary, and you can pick up the details from the others later.”

As the students-turned-hockey-players rummaged in their bags for their equipment, Byleth lingered around the stragglers as promised. During the relative chaos of pulling on padding and jerseys and lacing up skates, they felt everyone was more or less informed. As with all sports, though, all of their planning could go down the drain in seconds depending on how the game progressed. 

It wasn’t until the team exited the locker room to head to the ice that Linhardt showed up. He studied them for a moment, taking in their full gear, then yawned and started for their bench. Byleth followed him, splitting off from the students as they took their first strides on the ice. It was a familiar surface, though the stakes ahead of them were a far cry from their practices. Caspar dumped out their collection of pucks and the warm-ups officially began. 

Not long after the Black Eagles took the ice, the Blue Lions skated to the other end to start their own warm-ups. For the most part, the teams ignored each other, though a few of the students that were close with those outside of their group tossed teasing comments. Byleth had to call for Dorothea to refocus and stop trying to fluster their opponents, but otherwise everyone stayed on task. Throughout the routine, students and staff alike began filing into the seats, all aware of the long tradition of the tournament and wondering which team would hold bragging rights for the rest of the year.

When the arena’s horn sounded to indicate warm-ups were over, both teams skated back the way they’d come, heading to their locker rooms. There wasn’t much left for the Black Eagles to do but wait. They could hear Alois’ voice over the sound system, listing off the rules for those in attendance and explaining the rules of the tournament. By the time he delivered the starting lineups, Edelgard led the team into the hallway. Byleth and Linhardt headed for the bench on their own. As they were listed first on the schedule, they were the away team and would thus enter the ice first.

“It’s time to head out,” Ferdinand said, noting the time remaining on the countdown clock above them. “Let’s do this.”

He, Hubert, and Edelgard allowed the others to go first. One by one, the Black Eagles walked down the rest of the hallway and then skated out onto the ice to cheering. While they made laps around their half of the ice, more cheers sounded as the Blue Lions arrived. After a few more announcements from Alois, the starting lines took their positions, and a hush fell over the crowd in anticipation. Seteth skated to center ice. Once Edelgard and Dimitri bent into position, he dropped the puck.

Dimitri’s aggressiveness won the faceoff, but Edelgard pushed forward without hesitation, stealing the puck from Ingrid and leading her team into the offensive zone. She’d never prided herself on her speed, though she was quicker than the opposing forwards chasing after her. Ashe, on the other hand, was a problem. She tried to muscle past the thinner player, only to have him dart his stick forward and knock the puck away. Linhardt’s scouting did say Ashe had impressive reflexes. She wouldn’t be challenging him one-on-one the same way next time.

Her determination to not be bested by him again only grew once Ashe slipped a pass past Hubert to Dimitri. Petra didn’t have a chance to save the Blue Lions captain’s slap shot. Another point from Linhardt’s research? Few goalies did. No one felt like blocking shots in a three-on-three tournament, even with one with as much history as the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. They were even less inclined to mess with Dimitri’s power.

As neither line had used up much energy, the same six attacking players remained out on the ice for the next puck drop. This time, Edelgard won the faceoff and dumped the puck back to Hubert. He carried it to the red line before firing a surprise shot at Sylvain. The Blue Lions goalie knocked it aside with his stick just in time. While the forwards and Ashe sped to the corner where the puck ended up, Bernadetta lingered just inside the blue line. Hubert used his height to block off Ingrid and Ashe, leaving Edelgard and Dimitri to battle once more. The moment Edelgard had an inch of control, she knocked the puck back to Bernadetta.

Both knowing her tendency to panic, Edelgard and Hubert spun away from the cluster of players and presented themselves as good outlets for a pass. Bernadetta glanced between them. Just as Edelgard opened her mouth to make the decision for her, Bernadetta slid the puck to Hubert, who simply stuck out his stick for the deflection. Sylvain had already gone down into his butterfly, prepared to smother any attempts of Hubert at stickhandling around the crease. Instead, the goalie could only watch as the puck redirected to the far post that he’d left uncovered. With a slight _cling_ , the puck slid past Sylvain’s leg and into the back of the net.

Hubert looked to Bernadetta and gave an approving nod. For all of her nerves, she did have a good eye for accuracy and the right call. That didn’t stop him from being any less resigned when she looked somewhere between terrified and confused at his reaction. At least she reacted equally as lost when Edelgard patted her on the arm during their skate back to the bench. He had to give Caspar a don’t-you-dare stare once he noticed the look Caspar got whenever he was about to yell. A common expression for a common action, but the last thing the Black Eagles needed was Bernadetta to get too spooked just a couple of minutes into the first game of the tournament.

And so the first game progressed. Neither the Black Eagles nor the Blue Lions held back, knowing losing the game could eliminate them from the final. Caspar even landed himself in the penalty box for slashing because of being a little too enthusiastic in his attempts to get the puck from Dedue. Seteth didn’t believe his protests, simply pointing at the taller student’s broken stick on the ice. As tiring as killing off the penalty proved to be, Byleth encouraged the Black Eagles to carry the momentum through the rest of the game.

So, using that momentum, the team took a one-goal lead off the stick of Ferdinand. Not long after, Hubert took the puck off of Felix and found Edelgard on a breakaway. She didn’t miss. As the Black Eagles’ lead grew, the Blue Lions took more risks, throwing out whatever strategies they might have had to try and take advantage of their strength. With the Black Eagles’ skill in finesse and planning, they capitalized on each opportunity they found. 

“They wouldn’t be using their timeout if they didn’t have some kind of plan to make,” Hubert said, as the Black Eagles gathered while their opponents did the same. “There’s too much open ice to take any lead for granted, even a large one like ours.”

“Hubie, you don’t really think we’d allow so many late goals, do you?” Dorothea asked, with a mock frown.

“I should hope not, but that is no reason to let our guard down.”

“Hubert is right,” Edelgard agreed. “I’ve seen more than one team become complacent and wind up losing right at the end. We won’t make that mistake.”

“Are you all sure you even need me?” Byleth said dryly. “It sounds like you’re more than capable of coaching yourselves.”

“Of course we have need of you,” Petra said. “We wouldn’t have played this well without your guidance.”

The others nodded.

“Thank you, Petra. Still, I don’t have anything to add. You know what you have to do.”

Keeping up a four-goal lead sounded easy enough, but as Hubert predicted, the Blue Lions weren’t done yet. Their desperation asked their defense to push forward more often, which meant Dedue’s bulk had to be dealt with. While Hubert was the best competition in terms of height, Dedue had many pounds on him. For the first shift after the timeout, the Black Eagles scrambled to adjust, and the puck slipped past Petra.

“Now that we know their plan, we can counter it,” Edelgard said. “Keep the puck away from them, and dump it in deep once you hit the red line. They can’t use their strength if they’re too tired from chasing us.”

No one had to be told twice to avoid being checked by Dedue. The hits in the game weren’t hard -- they were, underneath the jerseys, all students at the same university -- but his size advantage was tangible. Felix wasn’t too far behind, making up for his shorter stature with determination. Since the Black Eagles owned the lead, they didn’t have to press, which meant they could take their time with passes. Edelgard’s strategy wasn’t about taking the lead. It was for preserving it.

And it worked.

The arena’s horn sounded just as Hubert cleared the puck from the defensive zone. Any icing potential went away, with the seconds on the scoreboard’s clock hitting zero. The teams shook hands before retreating to their respective benches. 

“That’s one game done,” Ferdinand said, once the Black Eagles finished congratulating each other. There wasn’t much celebration, given they hadn’t accomplished their final goal, but they’d played well. “Let’s hope there are two more to go.”

“Though if you do want to lose this second game, I won’t complain about having a free schedule tomorrow,” Linhardt offered. He didn’t shrink back as everyone stared at him. “There’s no need to look at me like that. It was just a suggestion.”

“Your suggestion is acknowledged,” Hubert said, “and rejected.”

Linhardt sighed. “That’s what I thought you would say. Very well. I suppose I will continue to support the team.”

“That’s the spirit, Lin.” Dorothea beamed.

* * *

Far more fresh than the Golden Deer, who would be playing in their second game in a span of a few hours, the Black Eagles pulled on their equipment for what would hopefully not be the last time in the tournament.

“All we need to do is win this and we’re in the championship,” Edelgard reminded.

“No pressure,” Caspar joked, though sounding as if he truly didn’t feel any pressure.

Bernadetta’s hands trembled as she pulled her jersey over her head. “Th-that sounds like a lot of pressure, Caspar.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bernie. Just think of it like the last game. Even though you were nervous, you still did well.”

She gave a shaky nod. Similar encouragements passed around the locker room, carrying them through warmups. And, before they knew it, stepping out onto the ice for the start of the game. The Golden Deer posed an interesting challenge, as Linhardt’s research found their strengths, weaknesses, and overall strategy to be more or less the same as that of the Black Eagles. Both teams were strategic rather than aggressive and tended to have players with more speed than strength. 

If there was any advantage to be had for the Black Eagles, it was their cohesion. While there was no shortage of different personalities and opinions, they still meshed well. The Golden Deer were more...chaotic.

“Our other advantage is simply that we’re better,” Ferdinand said.

“Only if we are giving proof by winning,” Petra pointed out.

To change their routine as much as they could -- which wasn’t much, given the format of the game -- Ferdinand, Dorothea, and Caspar took their positions first. Caspar won the opening faceoff, passing it Ferdinand on the wing, only to have Claude shoot up to intercept it. If Dorothea hadn’t been hanging back, the Golden Deer captain would’ve had a breakaway just seconds into the game. Instead, Claude found himself to be the one having to backtrack, chasing after Ferdinand once Dorothea slid him the puck.

She tossed a smile back at Petra as the goalie called out her thanks, then joined the rush. A couple of passes later, Ferdinand had an open look at goal and took it. Lorenz stuck out a long leg and deflected the shot with his pad. Not the result the Black Eagles wanted, but earning the first shot was a sort of victory in and of itself -- even if Hubert and Edelgard had repeatedly reminded everyone that there was no such thing as a moral victory.

As expected with the similar styles, the matchup felt more even than the last. For a couple of shifts, the Black Eagles had the bulk of puck possession. The next ones favored the Golden Deer. One team would take the lead, then the other would tie it and lean ahead before the score evened once again. Each pass had more importance, every press forward calculated, knowing the speed on the other end. It wasn’t a surprise that it stood to be the lowest scoring game of the tournament as time progressed.

“Linhardt, got any ideas?” Caspar asked, during a brief pause when Seteth had to deal with a clock malfunction. Probably due to Flayn’s enthusiasm.

“You could always try to use what muscle we have,” Linhardt suggested, “but that would just tire you out and leave the team vulnerable.” He gripped his chin thoughtfully. It was difficult to be tuned out at a hockey game, even for him. “I think the best course of action is to continue doing what you’re doing. There’s nothing _wrong_ with our strategy, and to change it this late would be risky.”

“I agree,” Byleth said. “No team can play perfectly for the entire game. We just have to make sure they make a mistake before we do, and that you all capitalize on it when it comes.”

“What if it never comes?” Bernadetta asked.

“Then we’re in for a long night.”

Linhardt sighed.

“Don’t worry, Linhardt,” Ferdinand assured. “We won’t interfere with your night’s plans any longer than we were scheduled to.”

“I certainly hope not. It’s a good thing you’re all as dedicated as you are.”

“You’re not uncaring either,” Dorothea pointed out. “You gave us your research, so it’s not as if you have to be here.” 

He considered the fact. “That’s true.” Another sigh. “Still, the effort I’m exerting is far less than the rest of you.”

“The total amount of effort doesn’t matter here,” Hubert said. “The contributions do.”

Seteth blew his whistle to announce the game could resume. No one seemed to think there was a statement to top Hubert’s, so the Black Eagles returned to their positions without any words other than basic encouragements. The game picked up where it left off, with the sensation of it being destined for overtime. Neither team wanted to make a mistake at this point, though the idea of letting the result hang on a golden goal wasn’t ideal either. They remained cautious but alert, looking for a way to claim a late victory.

An opportunity came when Raphael just missed Marianne’s pass, leading to an icing. The Black Eagles swapped lines at the option, fresh bodies replacing tired ones to oppose a trio of Golden Deer who’d been on the ice for a long shift.

“I refuse to allow our chances for the final to be left up in the air in overtime,” Ferdinand said as he skated to the faceoff dot with the others. “Let’s win this here and now.”

“Yeah!” Caspar gave Ferdinand a light tap on the calf with his stick. “We’ve still got that secret faceoff play, don’t we?”

“Caspar, it won’t be a secret if you talk about it so loudly,” Dorothea chided.

“Oh. Right.”

“But yes,” Ferdinand said. “What better time to use it than now?”

“Well said, Ferdie. You boys just make sure that you’re in position.”

“Of course.”

“We’re gonna win this thing.”

Ferdinand took his position at the dot, bending in preparation for Shamir to drop the puck. Leonie stood on the other side, mirroring him. Behind Ferdinand, on the blue line, waited Dorothea, and Caspar lingered to Ferdinand’s right. Their plan wouldn’t work if Ferdinand couldn’t win the faceoff, so he didn’t even dare to blink as Shamir’s hand stretched out between him and Leonie. As soon as the puck dropped, he outdueled his opponent and snapped it back to Dorothea.

She looked up just long enough to confirm Caspar had moved to the far end of the ice, forcing Marianne to follow him. Dorothea fired off the pass and sped after it, as if in preparation for a return feed. Neither she nor Bernadetta tended to pinch too deep, and her aggressiveness threw off the Golden Deer’s response. While Ferdinand skated back towards where Dorothea had been, the Golden Deer lost sight of him in the face of Dorothea and Caspar’s decoy.

A shout from the opposing bench -- Claude probably -- called out the space Ferdinand had at the same time as Lorenz shouted for someone to cover him. By the time Leonie spun around, Caspar slid the puck to Ferdinand. His stick was already raised in preparation for a one-timer, and he slammed the slapshot past Lorenz’s outstretched glove.

“I knew it would work,” Caspar laughed, skating over with Dorothea to pat Ferdinand’s helmet. “Nice shot.”

“Nice pass,” Ferdinand countered. “And you were an excellent distraction, Dorothea.”

“You say the sweetest things, Ferdie.”

On their way to their bench, they glanced up at the scoreboard. The Black Eagles, holding a one goal lead with just over a minute remaining. Knowing they’d preserved some sort of lead for nearly half the last game, they knew they could hold one for the last minute of the current game. It wasn’t easy. Their aching legs would attest to that fact, after spending most of that time chasing the puck in their defensive zone. But a neat move from Dorothea to knock the puck away from Hilda killed off the last seconds, clinching the result -- and the team’s spot in the championship.

The team chatted about how the game had gone for the short walk to the locker room. Once everyone made it to their space, the conversations trailed off, a mix of the new distance between everyone, pulling off jerseys, and knowing that Byleth would have something to say.

“Another win,” Byleth congratulated. “Well done.”

“And now we’re in the finals,” Ferdinand said. Almost declared, really. “As expected.”

“Since the Blue Lions beat the Golden Deer, we’ll be having a rematch of our first game,” Byleth continued. “We may have beaten them before, but they’re sure to have made a new plan from what they learned. We’ll do the same.”

“My research hasn’t changed.” Linhardt yawned. “I’ll leave most of it up to all of you to find a way to use it, depending on what they do.”

“We did have some problems when they relied on their strength,” Ferdinand remembered. “I’d be willing to bet they’ll try to play that way the whole game.”

“Then we will stop them,” Hubert said simply.

There were nods and sounds of agreement.

“Oooh, this is so exciting.” Dorothea clasped her hands together. “Not that I ever doubted any of us, but it’s comforting to know we can win it all now.”

“We _will_ win,” Caspar corrected.

Bernadetta knocked her stick on the wooden bench. When the others looked at her, she stammered, “S-since we made it this far, I don’t want Caspar to jinx us.”

“‘Jinx us?’” Petra repeated.

“Some people worry that saying something about the future means that the opposite will happen,” Dorothea explained. “In other words, they jinxed the outcome. Many of the same people think if you knock on wood, it will cancel out any jinx.”

Petra nodded. “We have a similar thought in Brigid, but there is no knocking of wood. We fire an arrow before much time has passed. It is said to kill the...jinx.”

“That’s way cooler than knocking on wood,” Caspar said. 

Edelgard turned back to Bernadetta. “I didn’t realize you were superstitious.”

“Everything always seems to go wrong,” Bernadetta said, looking at her hands. “I don’t want to risk it getting any worse.”

“Well, I appreciate you looking out for the team.”

“Now _I’m_ going to look out for the team and tell you all to go and relax for the rest of the evening so you’re fresh for the championship.” Byleth erased the diagrams on the white board. “See you all after lunch tomorrow.”

“Thanks, coach,” Caspar laughed. “You too.”

The team finished taking off their equipment with non-hockey conversations, leaving in groups. Only Byleth walked out alone, after they’d scanned the locker room to make sure everything was clean. The Black Eagles would make it their home again the next afternoon.

* * *

“Welcome to the final game of the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion.” Alois’ voice filled the arena, as it had for the whole tournament. “We have the Black Eagles --” he paused, to allow cheering -- “and the Blue Lions. These two were the best teams in our round robin play, and now it’s time to find out who’s the best. Good luck to both, and don’t forget to give us some good entertainment.”

After some last-second reminders, the opening lines took their positions on the ice. Edelgard, Bernadetta, and Hubert lined up against Felix, Dedue, and Annette. Seteth dropped the puck, and the championship began.

Unlike the first time the teams matched up, the game felt more even. Whatever advantages the Black Eagles had in the first game of the tournament, the Blue Lions had learned them and made the appropriate adjustments. Manuela and Mercedes had clearly put effort into making a plan for winning the rematch. So had Byleth and Linhardt, however, which meant the teams traded goals, neither one having any lead larger than two goals.

As time wound down, the score stood knotted at six. Everyone knew the clock in the back of their minds, but they couldn’t afford to simply assume they were headed to overtime. There was always the chance a mistake from being too complacent would open up a window for the other team. Plus, allowing the game to go to extra minutes turned it into a sort of toss-up. No one wanted that if it could be avoided, so they pressed on.

Petra didn’t allow herself to relax, not even when her teammates had an extended period of time in the offensive zone. She hadn’t faced a shot for nearly a minute, which was an eternity in a three-on-three game. The puck bounced off the glass behind the net as someone deflected Bernadetta’s shot. It bounced over her stick as she tried to collect her own rebound, and Felix pounced. He took possession and outpaced Hubert, setting himself up for a breakaway.

Knowing the enormity of this moment, Petra crouched, watching for any clue from Felix on what he planned to do. She knew from their games and research that he tended to shoot glove side, but she didn’t dare shift in that direction and leave her blocker side open. He was quick, so he’d probably try a fancy move to open her up. She’d just have to stop him before he had the chance.

As he came closer, she moved up in her crease to buy her an extra moment. Once he was within reach, she jabbed out with her stick and knocked the puck away from him. He made a startled noise, not having expected the aggressive move. Petra didn’t take the time to see who else was coming and slid back into her normal position, readying herself for a shot. It never came, as Hubert recovered the puck and passed it back up the ice.

The next time she faced a Blue Lion by herself, there were only seconds left on the clock. She didn’t know if Felix would have time to get a shot off or not, but she had to prepare for one. Her save from earlier would hardly matter if she allowed a goal now. 

In the neutral zone, Felix navigated around Ferdinand, leaving his route to Petra wide open. It felt like a repeat of before, and she hoped she could come through for her team again with there being just seconds left on the clock. No, she _would_ come through. She wouldn’t let her friends down.

Before he could fire off a shot, the buzzer sounded. Petra let out a breath, straightening up. It felt as if she’d been in her crouch for hours. She pushed up her mask and squirted some water into her mouth. Satisfied, she joined her team at the bench. 

“You were simply stunning, Petra,” Dorothea complimented, giving her a pat on the arm. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that save.”

“We would also not be here if you hadn’t passed the puck to Edelgard for our goal,” Petra said, though smiled. 

“Good job, everyone,” Byleth said. “They almost had us there at the end, but we dragged it to OT. That’s a win. Go and get another one.”

“Yeah!” Caspar said, giving Linhardt an excited punch to the shoulder.

“Caspar,” Linhardt sighed. “Next time, please hit someone wearing pads.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“Do you suggest any strategy changes?” Edelgard asked, looking to Byleth.

Byleth shook their head. “The Black Eagles are in the final for a reason. Keep doing what you’ve been doing, but remember that they only need one more goal to win, just like us.”

“I would remind everyone to be at their best,” Dorothea said, smiling, “but that shouldn’t be very hard, because make quite the talented team.”

“Too true,” Ferdinand agreed. “We are the superior team, and now it’s time to prove it once and for all. We’ve already beaten the Blue Lions before; there’s no reason we can’t do it again.”

“Yeah!” Caspar said, this time remembering just in time to give his excited punch to Hubert’s arm instead. At the taller man’s glare, Caspar determined he needed to find another target for his enthusiasm.

With their strategizing -- or lack thereof -- complete, the team waited for the game to resume. 

“Now we have ourselves some extra hockey,” Alois announced. “This overtime will last five minutes, unless one of our fine teams scores before then. If we go the full time, we will then enter a shootout. We’ll save those rules for then, shall we? Here we go.”

With the entire tournament being played in the three-on-three style, neither team found overtime to be different, save the stakes. Line changes and aggressive play from defensemen had to be more carefully considered. One mistake would end the game. More than that, one mistake would cost the offending team the championship. No one wanted to be that person. 

For the first few minutes, the teams felt each other out, taking their time entering the offensive zone and tossing more passes than necessary. Caspar took it upon himself to be the first one to push for victory, bumping into Annette and taking the puck off her. She scrambled to recover, but he made it to the Blue Lions’ zone without much trouble. The only issue with his decisive action was that neither of his teammates were on the rush with him. A good thing, then, that he didn’t mind being on a breakaway in the slightest.

He stared down Sylvain, trying to see if the goalie favored any section of the net. He hadn’t earlier, but they were all breathing heavier with the extra minutes of the game. With no obvious answers, Caspar opted for force and fired off a slapshot that would have left a nasty bruise if there was anyone to block it. He yelled in frustration as the puck deflected off the post -- he’d had Sylvain beat. Caspar chased after the puck, but the quicker Annette repaid the favor from earlier and took over.

Though he didn’t score, he’d changed the style of overtime. No longer were the teams being overly cautious. They returned to what had gotten them there: good, solid play. Bodies crashed into each other, players shouted for passes when they saw an opening. Both Petra and Sylvain came up with game-preserving saves, and it looked as if the teams were heading for a shootout. Byleth already found themself considering who would be the best options when they sent out Bernadetta, Hubert, and Edelgard out for their final shift.

As soon as her skates hit the ice, Bernadetta sped along her wing, continuing to avoid physical and eye contact with the Blue Lions players. She wasn’t particularly inclined to stare long at Hubert either, but he was her teammate, and she had little choice if she didn’t want to disappoint the team. Powering past Ashe, Edelgard carried the puck into the Blue Lions’ zone. With Hubert and Bernadetta following, the Black Eagles temporarily had the numbers advantage.

As Edelgard skated closer to the net, Hubert pushed deeper, forcing Dedue to decide between blocking a potential pass or closing off Edelgard’s angle at the shot. When the large defenseman remained blocking Edelgard’s way, she passed the puck to her left. Hubert fielded the pass easily. He focused on the net, watching as Sylvain shifted in his direction and Felix pinched closer. Pulling his stick back, Hubert fired off --

A pass that no one expected.

Not even Bernadetta, who nearly fumbled the puck entirely as it hit the tape of her stick. If she’d had more time to think about it, she had no doubt she would’ve run through a thousand possibilities of what to do and how she could lose the game for the team. But Felix turned quickly and started towards her, and all she wanted was to get the puck as far away from her as soon as possible. _Shoot it, Bernie!_ She scolded herself. _Maybe then it’ll all be over and you can go back to your room for the next week_.

So she shot it, not so panicked that she wasn’t able to at least _attempt_ to score. For all of her nerves, Caspar had spoken true when he said she was the team’s most accurate shot. Who knew all that time practicing her archery for fun would pay off on the hockey team. And pay off it did, because the puck squeaked past Sylvain’s outstretched glove.

“I did it?” Bernadetta said, gazing at the net in confusion.

“And the winner of the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion is the Black Eagles!” Alois announced over the arena’s speakers. “Bernadetta von Varley scores the game-winner in overtime to clinch the championship.”

“Well done, Bernadetta.”

She broke her attention away from the net to see Hubert and Edelgard skating over to her. Before she could reply, she looked past them and noticed the rest of the team zooming in their direction, Caspar yelling in victory.

“Oh no,” she squeaked.

“You did it, Bernie,” Dorothea said, beaming. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t change positions?”

Being mobbed by her teammates didn’t exactly make Bernadetta pleased about sticking it out. Still, being surrounded by so much positivity...it was overwhelming, but as she adjusted -- or at least, adjusted as much as she could -- she realized it wasn’t _bad_. She was the hero, somehow, and everyone knew it and seemed to be pleased.

“Party in the locker room!” Caspar declared.

“Don’t party too hard,” Byleth said warningly. “You still have your essays due tomorrow night, and some of you haven’t turned yours in yet.”

“Awww, come on. Don’t ruin our fun, Byleth.”

“No, they’re right,” Ferdinand said. “Just because we’re the victors doesn’t mean everything else goes away.”

“Even so, we’ve earned this celebration,” Edelgard said. “You all worked hard last semester, and it paid off.”

“You did as well,” Hubert pointed out.

She nodded. “Thank you. And we can’t forget you, Byleth. Who knows how we would have performed without your guidance.”

“We can not be forgetting Linhardt’s input either,” Petra added.

“Yes, yes, we all worked hard and we won,” Linhardt said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be making up for the naps I’ve missed lately.”

No one stopped him as he carefully made his way of the ice. They knew full well he wouldn’t enjoy the party, so there was little point in forcing him. Similarly, as he was Byleth’s assistant, it wasn’t vital for him to accept his medal or pose with the plaque of Battle of the Eagle and the Lion that would bear their names.

“I’ll bring him his medal later,” Caspar said.

“Oh, I hope the ceremony doesn’t last long.” Bernadetta clasped her hands together, the nerves beginning to return. “Everyone is looking at us.”

“Well, there’s no rule for how we have to stand,” Dorothea said. “What if we stand around you so that the crowd can’t see you?”

Bernadetta blinked. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” Petra said. “You are our teammate and friend.”

“O-okay, but not _too_ close around me.”

And apart from a couple of minutes when the team (or most of the team) photo was taken, Bernadetta didn’t feel exposed at all, her teammates shielding her from attention. She’d had quite enough of that for the time being.

“ _Now_ can we party?” Caspar asked, as they skated off the ice.

Ferdinand put an arm around his shoulders. “Now we can party.”


End file.
